


Contact Sheet

by lovefoolthatsme



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Design Students, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Good Organic JB Appreciation, Jinyoung is a Virgo, Love is real and they are in it, M/M, Photography, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovefoolthatsme/pseuds/lovefoolthatsme
Summary: First and foremost, Jaebum is his friend and if they’ve seen each other in the studio at 6 am on a deadline day, Jinyoung could go to the shoot in a paper bag and Jaebum would have to agree it’s an improvement. Secondly, the photos will be heavily edited, chances are that no one will even be able to tell it’s Jinyoung. Actually that’s ridiculous, who else would Jaebum ask to model? Another sigh escapes him as he tries to ignore his rapidly increasing heart rate and how warm the room seems to be getting.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 30
Kudos: 208
Collections: JJP Big Bang





	Contact Sheet

**Author's Note:**

> A great big thank you to the wonderful mod who worked so hard to run this fest. I am so glad that I'm able to be part of it <3
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this humble offering. There is a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0J0GvMJ9tvPStY4682bEhS?si=7ln7lKrKRG6n87PfnZYrjA) for this fic, if you are so inclined, as well as (if I do everything correctly) some beautiful [artwork](https://twitter.com/neapolituan/status/1234837890737139712/photo/1) by the wonderful [@neapolituan!](https://twitter.com/neapolituan?s=20)

It’s been three days since Professor Xiao had assigned the photography project, and Jaebum’s hesitancy to approach Jinyoung has become somewhat comedic to witness. It’s not unheard of for the two design students to collaborate on their briefs, in fact, the majority of their cohort would be surprised to see one without the other. They only have one studio session left to submit a proposal and Jinyoung would be more concerned that Jaebum hadn’t asked him to model, if the man wasn’t so obviously trying to come up with a way to suggest the idea.

“Uh, Jinyoung,” Jaebum clears his throat before he continues, “I’m sorry it’s so last minute, and don’t worry if you’re too busy with other work, I know how packed your schedule is.” 

For someone who does his utmost best to maintain a cool composure, Jaebum is getting noticeably flustered, his reddening ears a beacon of distress. Luckily for him Jinyoung has already caught on to what Jaebum was trying to propose. It’s ever so unfortunate, however, that he doesn’t often get to see the other man in this state and instead of relieving him of the awkward situation, he decides to feign ignorance. 

With a slight tilt of his chin towards Jaebum, he assumes an innocent smile to accompany his curious raised eyebrows, showing the man in front of him that he has all his attention, “Hmm?” All this does is cause Jaebum to flounder more, the man stopping mid-speech as if simply by reaffirming his existence, Jinyoung had stolen the words right out of his mouth. 

Jaebum swallows thickly, teeth gnawing anxiously on his bottom lip, “Do you think you could maybe find the time to do some modelling for my project, please?” Nervousness flows off of him in waves and Jinyoung couldn’t help swimming in it just a little bit longer. He lets the silence drag on for a beat, then two, watching as Jaebum starts formulating a way to retract his request. Before Jaebum could try to rescue his ego, Jinyoung’s composure breaks and so does the grin on his face, eyes curling into crescents. The sound of Jinyoung’s deep laughter seems to knock Jaebum out of his shock, playfully pushing the other man’s shoulder in indignation. 

“Wow Park Jinyoung, I really thought I was going to have to make plans to flee the country,” Jaebum exhales, smile bright and disbelieving. Any guilt Jinyoung might have felt is effectively silenced by the pout that found its way on to the other’s face. Ignoring the way his brain is supplying him with every possible synonym for the word ‘cute’, he coos teasingly at Jaebum, hand coming up to lightly pinch the older man’s ear. The skin under Jinyoung’s finger tips might have reddened a little bit more but other than that, no one is surprised by the display of affection. 

As much as they are an excellent team, always working together efficiently and professionally, they also can’t seem to give each other a break. Casual banter that started during their first year had evolved into what is now, pretty shameless flirting. Several of their coursemates had assumed that the pair were a couple and who could blame them when anyone with eyes could see the dopey smiles Jaebum rewards Jinyoung with whenever he so much as breathes in his direction. The entire situation is extremely transparent and somehow the two will reject any notion that they are more than friends. Jinyoung also doesn’t consider himself stupid. He’s perfectly aware that being around the man has not exactly been good for his health, but Jaebum is undeniably pretty and those dopey smiles have become the highlight of his day. If getting to watch him pull stupid faces while he’s thinking means experiencing regular heart palpitations, he’s come to terms with an early death.

It’s not strictly impossible that Jaebum might like him too, but frankly Jinyoung wouldn’t know how to approach the subject. In fact, the possibility that the other man does reciprocate his feelings may be more terrifying than rejection. How would they even proceed from there? Jinyoung supposes that they would probably spend more time together, which he wouldn’t mind. It’s just difficult to ignore that, for a long time, it felt like there is so much he didn’t know about Jaebum past the relentless teasing and the fact that he’s far better at using InDesign than any mere mortal should be.

“Yes, I’ll help you with your shoot, hyung,” Jinyoung replies kindly, deciding that Jaebum had been through enough. It was definitely worth it to see the way Jaebum’s face lights up with a catlike grin almost too big for his delicate features. “Do you have any concepts planned yet?” The smile doesn’t leave Jaebum’s face but he can tell the tension from earlier has returned from the way he's shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

Jaebum doesn’t quite make eye contact when he answers, “Well I know we have to do portraits but I want to try and challenge myself a little bit, maybe try something in the same vane as boudoir photography.” Jinyoung’s eyes widen involuntarily and Jaebum notices when he looks back up at him. Clearly not wanting to give the wrong impression, he rushes to explain, “Just sort of! It’s more like I’m taking inspiration from the emotions. I want to try and capture those feelings of intimacy.” 

Jinyoung is finding it a little bit difficult to breathe, yes it seemed that he wouldn’t have to pose nude but despite Jaebum’s reassurance, he can still hear the blood pumping in his head.

“I want to shoot in film and using analogue methods to hand render special effects, like Irving Penn,” Jaebum finishes, bottom lip once again caught between his teeth, nervous eyes looking for any sign of approval from Jinyoung. 

It takes a moment for Jinyoung to snap himself out of it but he smiles gently. “That sounds incredible! I think if it was anyone else, I’d be worried if they could do it justice.” When Jinyoung says it, it’s the truth, Jaebum has a natural talent for making things seem so special in the simplest ways. He is rewarded with a shy smile, Jaebum bringing his hand bashfully up to the back of his own neck. 

“Thanks, Jinyoung,” the tension from before seeming to melt off of him, “Do you have any plans yet?”

The sound of Jaebum clearing his throat is enough to ground Jinyoung again, feet firmly back on the ground. “I’m actually not sure yet, probably documentary photography though,” Jinyoung supplies. “Actually it would be great if you could model for me too!” Jinyoung puts on his cheesiest smile. “Please, hyung?”

“No.” 

There’s a split second where Jinyoung is trying to register what happened but then Jaebum breaks into uproarious laughter and starts running backwards toward the door. It doesn’t take Jinyoung long to chase after him with a “Jaebum!”, the smile still on his face.

✏︎

Jinyoung looks at the long row of messages from Jaebum. He had sent him a number of photos with outfit inspiration when Jinyoung told him he had no idea what to wear for the photo shoot. He can feel the grimace on his face as he swipes through the images, each one a different stunning male model in sinfully revealing clothing. Turning away from the long mirror hanging on his wall, he opens his wardrobe again, praying that this time a decent ensemble will have magically materialised behind the doors. A sigh escapes him as he’s met with his harsh reality; the universe doesn’t think it necessary to grant him any kind of miracle.

“Okay, I don’t have anything that looks like this,'' he huffs, staring forlornly at the photo of a sheer shirt hanging seductively off broad shoulders, “but...” He starts rifling through coat hangers, trying to find a white sweater he bought by mistake two winters ago. The material feels nice but that’s where it’s list of positive attributes end. Had Jinyoung noticed that the holes in the cable knit were big enough to be a bit too revealing, he probably would have left it on the sales rack. He probably should have returned it if his older sister convinced him that an occasion may arise where he would need it, accompanied by a pair of suggestive raised eyebrows. 

Jinyoung pulls the jumper over his head and glances back at his reflection. The white wool is as soft as he remembers but he can't help wincing when he sees the way the fabric exposes the hard edges of his collarbones and the outline of his ribs, making him feel far from comfortable. Truth be told, It doesn't look completely awful. Jinyoung takes a moment and tries to position himself into a pose, head tilted slightly, chin pointed upwards. It feels ridiculous to be staring at his own bedroom eyes but it doesn't come close to the cold shock of realisation that he would have to do this in front of a camera, in front of Jaebum. Any confidence that he has built up in the last five minutes, vanished in a fraction of the time. Jinyoung takes a deep breath and regards his reflection again but this time, the garment looks tattered rather than alluring, the man staring back awkward instead of sexy. He briefly considers throwing himself out of his three-storey window but every cosmic force is against him today because his phone starts to vibrate in his back pocket. 'Who still calls?' is the only thing Jinyoung could think about before he realises that, of course, Jaebum still calls.

"Hello?" Jaebum's voice sounds a little gruff through the speaker before he hears him coughing loudly. Lovely.

"Hey hyung, everything ok?" Even if it isn't physically possible to cross every single one of his fingers, Jinyoung is putting every ounce of his energy into trying. If he was finally going to receive his reward for somehow never strangling Yugyeom to death, let it be now, let the shoot be cancelled.

"Yeah, everything's fine, I just wanted to let you know that I've had to move the location of the shoot." The human body is remarkable, especially in this moment when Jinyoung, skeleton and all, can somehow deflate like a balloon. "There was a small problem, and now I have to do everything from home. You still have my address right?"

Approximately five thousand sirens go off at once in his head before Jinyoung replies with a sarcastic, "No, can you remind me? I don't retain information for more than three days at a time."

With a smile, Jinyoung tosses his phone back onto his bed and turns around to face the mirror. It’s with the same smile, that he proceeds to scream silently for at least a minute, the sound getting caught in the back of his throat. Jinyoung exhales slowly and ruffles his hair before pulling his hand down over his face. Okay. He is going to compartmentalise and just calm down. If he considers the facts, it may not seem as terrifying. 

First and foremost, Jaebum is his friend and if they’ve seen each other in the studio at 6 am on a deadline day, Jinyoung could go to the shoot in a paper bag and Jaebum would have to agree it’s an improvement. Secondly, the photos will be heavily edited, chances are that no one will even be able to tell it’s Jinyoung. Actually that’s ridiculous, who else would Jaebum ask to model? Another sigh escapes him as he tries to ignore his rapidly increasing heart rate and how warm the room seems to be getting.

A quick glance at the clock confirms that he has about half an hour before he has to leave. There might be enough time for him to try and find another outfit but ultimately Jinyoung decides to cut his losses and just pulls two of his nicest button-up shirts off their hangers and throws them into a tote bag. Panic suddenly grabs hold of him when he realises that nothing has been done to his hair yet and then he’s trying to suppress an entire lexicon of profanity as he hurriedly combs gel into it. It’s not until he’s pulling his fingers through his dark locks that he realises he’s probably used a little too much. The unruly strands of hair look almost wet in the intense bathroom lighting. He can feel the pressure of dread building up in his skull but he snaps himself out of it before it can get the better of him. With a few careful motions, his hair, although still drowning in product, seems more artfully tousled than as if he’s performing in a low budget rendition of ‘Grease’. 

The tote bag is thrown over his shoulder as he hops towards the front door, trying to pull a shoe onto one of his feet. As Jinyoung locks his room, he prays that Jaebum will let him borrow the dark eye makeup he pretends he doesn’t own.

✏︎

When the door of Jaebum's apartment opens, Jinyoung has just about been able to catch his breath. 

The usual 15 minute walk to the building had somehow turned into 25 with how lost Jinyoung had gotten, not so much geographically, but certainly in his thoughts. He was only able to calm himself down by trying to assure himself that he would know what to do in any situation. The reason it had taken so long, was the fact that for the first half of the journey, the only solution he could come up with was walking straight out of the door. So absorbed in escape route plans, Jinyoung hadn't even realised that he came to a perfect stop in the middle of the park, until a jogger almost ran into the back of him. After that particularly awkward encounter, he speed walked the rest of the way so that he at least wouldn't be late.

Jinyoung’s greeting is met with Jeabum’s retreating back, the man already halfway down the corridor to the small kitchen he and Seunghyub have in their shared apartment. 

“Hey Jinyoung, come in, sorry I was busy making coffee,” comes the half delirious voice from down the hall, “did you want any?” Jinyoung considers the offer for a moment but decides that caffeine is absolutely the last thing he needs to introduce to his already jittering nerves. 

“No, I’m okay thank you,” he calls back politely, quietly making his way through their apartment and into the living room. When he peeks in past the doorframe, he’s delighted to find Seunghyub stretched length ways across the lumpy sofa he and Jaebum consider their most prized possession. After three months of sitting on the floor to watch tv, the two of them found the thing on the side of the road, very proudly carried it back home and decided it's as much a part of the family as Jaebum’s cat, Nora. He’s greeted with Seunghyub’s toothy smile and a bone crushing hug that he’s become very familiar with. The taller man isn’t even two years older than Jinyoung, but they had known each other for a week when he proclaimed himself his adoptive big brother. 

“You helping Jaebum with his shoot?”

Jinyoung chuckles baring in mind that, despite the jacket, the rips in his jumper are still visible behind the blue denim. “No hyung, I dressed up like this to come watch you beat his sorry ass at Mortal Kombat again,” he replies with a tight lipped smile and enough sarcasm to prove he hasn't been kidnapped and replaced by a greasier clone. Seunghyub, knowing him well, just laughs good naturedly and promises that they can definitely make plans to do that another time. 

Falling back into their usual conversation, Jinyoung can feel some of that nervous energy begin to dissipate. Perhaps the location change is what he needed because that ratty sofa is becoming like an anchor to reality while his heart is doing a particularly complicated aerial gymnastics routine behind his ribs. With some clever goading, and definitely a significant amount of Jedi mind trickery, Seunghyub finally gets Jinyoung to shed that last clinging coat of unease, and then his literal coat. He’s in the midst of a one-man fashion show when Jaebum ambles into the room and promptly chokes on a mouthful of hot coffee. Seunghyub puts down the imaginary camera he was following Jinyoung around with, if  
only so he could focus all his attention on making Jaebum’s life five times worse than it currently was.

“Oh I wish you could see your face!” The usually tall man is now practically half his height, bent over in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Everything had happened so quickly that when Jinyoung finally turns around, he’s met with a pair of wide eyes, mouth equally ajar. Reality suddenly comes crashing back down around him when he remembers that the only thing standing between Jaebum’s perception of him and his literal chest is, well, not much. He can feel his own eyes widen to match a still coughing Jaebum, arms flying up and around himself to, like an 18th century maiden, protect what he has left of his modesty. A similar blush is creeping onto both their cheeks as Jaebum tries very hard to keep his eyes trained above Jinyoung’s collarbones. From where he’s still crouched on the floor, Seunghyub regards the two knowingly, and chuckles quietly before pushing himself back onto his feet.

“Jinyoungie really looks like one of those models, huh?” The question is aimed at Jaebum, Seunghyub raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jinyoung had shown him all the photos while they were waiting for Jaebum to finish in the kitchen. Seunghyub had spent the majority of the time making fun of the fact that a number of the models in the photos Jaebum sent looked like Leeteuk, their first year print technician. It was only after he was crying from laughter, that Jinyoung could be convinced to show off his outfit.

Jaebum opens his mouth but it takes a second for any sound to come out. He clears his throat and lets out a small nervous laugh as he steps closer to where Jinyoung is standing, still hugging himself in the middle of their living room. “Yeah you look just like the photos I sent,” Jaebum replies good naturedly and both of the other men have to suppress a laugh, Seunghyub physically biting down on his lip to stop himself from smiling. Still lacking even a semblance of self- control, Jaebum reaches forward and delicately pinches a strand of gelled hair between his fingers. Jinyoung practically freezes on the spot, eyes glued to the hand that is now less than inches away from his forehead. 

“You even gelled your hair, it looks good.” Jaebum’s smile is small but he’s looking at Jinyoung so fondly that he can feel the heat rising up to his cheeks again. Jaebum is standing close enough to him that he can feel the heat radiating off of his hand, he himself becoming far more aware of his own breathing.

Across the room, Seunghyub coughs, mischievous grin now replaced with mock concern as he checks his watch. 

“I just remembered, I need to run.” Seunghyub makes his way past them and grabs his jacket hanging over the back of the sofa.

Reality seems to hit Jaebum like a brick because he inhales sharply and drops his hand like he’s been burned.

Seunghyub’s deep voice echoes down the hallway, “I’ll see you guys later, good luck with the shoot!” The door slams shut. Then it’s just the two of them.

✏︎

He wishes he could just snap himself out of the thoughts clouding his mind. These meaningless little touches have become as much a cornerstone in their friendship, as their mutual hatred of David Shrigley. It’s all part of the absurd game they’re constantly playing. Perhaps once upon a time it was to see who could embarrass or fluster the other more, however, after a while these moments became little comforts. Jaebum knows that a firm hand on his shoulder is all Jinyoung needs to pull him out from under days of deadline related stress that build up all too easily. Equally, Jinyoung has come to know that a tap under his chin or a gentle tug on his ear is enough to pull the brightest smiles out of Jaebum, and a blush he’ll vehemently refuse to acknowledge; ridiculous housecat.

The loud beat of blood pumping through his head slowly subsides and leaves the two of them stranded in complete silence. Jinyoung is hopelessly grasping at anything he could say to fill the space, but those thoughts are retreating just as quickly as they come; drawing away like its low tide and soon he’ll have no way to get back to the mainland. Nothing about the situation makes sense. Jinyoung knows how to swim, Jinyoung knows Jaebum. 

He’s about to let the sea take him and resign himself to pretending he lost all control over his vocal chords when Jaebum claps, the loud noise making him jump out of skin. The action was supposed to be a simple way to get them back on track but Jinyoung is so deeply immersed in his own inner monologue, it feels more like a slap to the face. Not for the first time in the past hour, Jinyoung feels like his heart is trying to escape through his ribcage, and quickly brings a hand up to his chest to try and keep it at bay. 

So distracted by his rapidly increasing blood pressure, Jinyoung levels a look at Jaebum from where he’s bent over slightly. 

“One day you’ll finally kill me and I’ll make it my mission to haunt you for the rest of my life.” Looking at the indignation written on Jinyoung’s face, Jaebum has no other option but to laugh at the situation. Jinyoung must have jumped at least a foot off the ground and if that wasn’t hilarious enough, a threat against his future wellbeing can only be so terrifying when the man delivering it is currently timing his heart rate with the novelty Star Wars clock hanging on their wall. 

“Ah Jinyoung-ah, you know I can’t do that,” Jaebum smiles innocently, “I’d miss you too much.” 

Jinyoung scoffs but the moment he makes eye contact with Jaebum, they’re both laughing like the last five minutes never happened, feet firmly on dry land. Jinyoung covering his mouth in a silent chuckle while Jaebum starts heading towards his bedroom. He disappears through the door for a moment before taking a step back, hand resting on the doorframe. Jinyoung is still partially recovering from the series of events when Jaebum smiles at him from over his shoulder, strands of his fringe falling over his eyes due to the angle.

“You coming?” 

✏︎

“Why did you have to move the shoot here?” Jinyoung asks, albeit distractedly. While Jaebum fiddles with an old, rickety box light, he finds himself drifting aimlessly around the room, trying to find something to distract himself from the nerves still fizzing under his skin. 

Jaebum replies without looking up, eyebrows furrowed while trying to adjust the height of the light stand, “Something went wrong with the studio bookings and I couldn’t change it in time.” When the jammed attachment finally loosens and extends to full height, Jaebum looks up triumphantly. His face falls immediately when he realises Jinyoung is too occupied with the collectable figures he has displayed on one of his shelves, and returns to setting up the lamp.

“I didn’t realise Studio A has a giant window, literally who puts a massive window in a photogra- Jinyoung.” Only half listening, Jinyoung jolts at the sound of his name.

He was toying with a pair of dolls- collectible figurines, he could almost hear in the other man’s voice. The figures are an exact copy of the costumes he and Jaebum had worn to Jackson’s Halloween party last year. Jinyoung- three feet under portfolio work; an essay and too many nights of having instant noodles in a row- in a state of desperation, dyed his hair bright orange. Despite being easily the worst decision he’s made since starting university, Jaebum was hellbent on making the most of the situation. Which is how he convinced Jinyoung to be the General Hux to his Kylo Ren. 

For a moment Jinyoung is paranoid that Jaebum had caught the fond curl to his lips as he fiddles with the tiny model lightsabers. However, when he turns around guiltily, he’s met with the sight of Jaebum trying desperately to win what looks like a fairly intense wrestling match against an inanimate object. 

“Could you please hold this upright so I can tighten the feet?” comes the frustrated request.

Jinyoung’s lips quirk up in fond exasperation at the scene, but he helpfully obliges.

“So what was wrong with the window?” Jinyoung asks quietly, absentmindedly still taking in his surroundings, realising that this is the first time he’s seen Jaebum’s room completely sober. The not so sober time actually being right after the aforementioned Halloween party. 

“Hmm?” Jaebum, finally happy with the stability of the light, lets out a breath and lets himself tip back into a more comfortable position on the floor. He gives the stand a light shake and smiles, pleased with himself, when nothing comes crashing down. 

“You said something about a window earlier.” Jinyoung seats himself on the edge of Jaebum’s bed, facing the man currently looking up at him, fringe once again falling into his face slightly. He contemplates for a moment whether it would be crossing too many boundaries for him to just reach forward and tuck it behind his ear for him. Ultimately, his instincts win over and he does it anyway, fingers catching on the small ring he has in the top of his ear lobe. Jaebum doesn’t even flinch at the action, instead rewarding him with a grateful nod before continuing the tale of the cursed Studio A. 

“Oh right, I needed low lighting for the shoot and the blinds in the studio weren’t working.” There is a far away look in Jaebum’s eye as he recounts the ordeal, voice distant like he’s talking about the war, not a broken blind. “And Seulgi already booked Studio B, which is why we’re here.” He finishes the story with a broad gesture to the bedroom around him.

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to get me alone in your room?” Jinyoung replies smugly, leaning conspiratorially into Jaebum’s space. He realises, with gratitude, that the dread that's been plaguing him all day, has mellowed down to a warmer feeling in his chest. 

To his credit, Jaebum only lets a second of surprise show on his face before he pushes himself up onto his knees so he’s eye level with him. 

“I don’t think I have to try that hard to get you in my room.” There’s a flirtatious edge to his voice as he continues even quieter, “remember, I’ve had you in my bed before.”

All the implications of the statement are lost to the sounds of Jinyoung’s deep laughter.

“Okay, first of all, we both passed out in our capes, and the next morning I literally couldn’t even see anything!” Despite being too drunk to walk all the way back to his apartment block, Jinyoung had still managed to take his contact lenses out. A fact he was still quite proud of, until a hungover Jaebum had to guide him back to his place the next day. 

Both men are near tears at the blurry memory. Neither are completely clear on the details other than Seunghyub’s retelling of the ordeal; an embellished account involving him being woken up at 3am by Jinyoung trying to feed Jaebum cereal through his mask. 

In the midst of a hysterical breakdown, they find themselves in a snorting heap, Jaebum collapsing into Jinyoung’s lap in a fit of silent laughter. Realisation only dawns on them when Jaebum comes up for air, wiping tears from his eyes, when then they lock onto Jinyoung’s for a little too long. However, this time the smiles don’t fade away completely, and neither does the glint in Jaebum’s eye. A deep breath. Dry land.

Jinyoung stands up while running a hand through the now hardened strands of his hair, fixing them back in place. Jaebum peers up at him through wet eyelashes for a moment before raising a hand in a silent request. 

✏︎

“You ok Jinyoungie?” The question drags him out of his thoughts. Jaebum has caught him checking his own reflection again, hands self consciously rearranging the knitted material over his shoulders. Reflected behind him in the mirror, Jaebum is regarding him with a small, knowing smile.

“I’m fine hyung,” he makes a face as he pulls the collar down again, “just a little out of my element.” 

There’s an answering frown painted onto Jaebum’s face.

“You trust me right?”

“Absolutely not,” Jinyoung looks up in mock surprise. “You’ve made it very clear that if Nora and I were both drowning, you’d save the cat.” 

There’s a hand on his shoulder to accompany the too large grin on Jaebum’s pretty face.

“I’m glad we’ve reached an understanding.” Another tap on his shoulder guides him towards the makeshift set Jaebum constructed against the only white wall in his room.

“Seriously though,” playfulness lost from Jaebum’s voice, “You know I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Jinyoung dismisses him as he lowers himself down onto the narrow bench draped in old patterned blankets.

“Of course,” he shakes his head, physically trying to knock loose any last clinging dregs of doubt, “Just promise you’ll tell me if I’m embarrassing myself.” It’s a joke but Jinyoung can’t help how genuine the request sounds leaving his mouth.

Jaebum flicks the switch for the main lights and settles down in front of Jinyoung, camera in his hand. He reaches up and adjusts the brightness of the box lamp slightly, casting Jinyoung in a soft yellow. 

“You really don’t have to worry about that,” Jaebum muses as he dims the bulb a little more, “You definitely look the part.” 

Jinyoung’s instinct is to guffaw at the statement but when he looks up at the man, he doesn’t see any hint of teasing, nothing but earnestness looking back at him. He ducks his head when he can feel that familiar warm blush crawl onto his cheeks. He’s losing his edge. Not for the first time that night, he pulls his collar down a little further.

Jaebum follows the movement with his eyes, catching for a moment on a pale shoulder, before darting back to check the camera settings a final time. Jinyoung can’t help but bask in the small victory; maybe this could be fun. 

Using film in such low light is tricky and Jinyoung would be more concerned if Jaebum didn’t have the uncanny ability to know exactly what aperture he needs at any given moment. He calls it practice and intuition, Jinyoung calls it witchcraft. With a few small clicks, Jaebum lets the camera drop out of his hands, caught swinging from the strap around his neck. Jinyoung is met with a pair of expectant eyes.

“You ready?” 

Shifting his weight, he leans back when he cocks his head to the side to peer at Jaebum through fluttering eyelashes, “Are you?”.

Jaebum makes a small choking noise in the back of his throat.

“I’m glad you’ve decided you’re going to make this hard for me,” is muttered distractedly as Jaebum seems to reassemble his composure.. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jinyoung flashes a sickly sweet smile, “hyung”. 

Eyebrows practically shoot up into his bangs as Jaebum visibly recoils, taking a deep breath to steady himself. 

“Can we start now?” The question is supposed to sound impatient but Jaebum can’t hide the smile threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth. “Who knows how long we have until you’re dragged back to whichever ring of hell you crawled up from.”

Jinyoung kicks out in the hopes of at least connecting with a stray shin and huffs defeated when Jaebum grabs him by the ankle. His bottom lip settles into a petulant pout when he pulls it out of his grip.

“You can’t expect me not to take my revenge.” 

“Oh you can try but we both know I’m faster.” The cheek of the statement bleeds through it and Jinyoung can only scoff at the childish competitiveness. 

“Then explain why it’s taken you,” a brief glance to his wristwatch, “almost an hour to even pick up a camera.”

“It’s not my fault that my model is being unprofessional.” It’s not until there’s a hand pressed into the bench next to Jinyoung’s thigh that either of them realise how close they’d gotten throughout the bickering. The gravitational pull is too strong to resist when they’re distracted. If Jaebum was any closer, Jinyoung would probably be able to feel his breath against his neck, the thought alone sending a shiver zipping down his spine. A moment passes and neither man backs away, scared that the slightest movement may sever the moment, send it skittering away like a startled cat. Jinyoung takes a deep breath and time kicks in along with his respiratory system. 

“You’re right,” Jinyoung says with as much nonchalance as he can muster, “we have a job to do.” The shade of red dusting his ears is the only visible indication of the hammering he can feel in his chest. “How do you want me?” 

When the photographer doesn’t answer immediately, Jinyoung is left pressed under the weight of the answers he wants to hear, his imagination conjuring warm lips and a hushed voice.

“On your back.”

He feels his vision glaze over as his soul forcefully tries to escape his body. Every ounce of self control he has in him is expended to keep from gawking at Jaebum in surprise. The steady drum beat that’s made a home in his ribcage is reaching a crescendo when he meets Jaebum’s eyes. There’s an edge of unsteadiness hidden in his delicate features, masquerading as a smirk on that pretty mouth. Jinyoung takes his time, gaze flitting from a graceful cupid’s bow; twin moles under sharp eyebrows; a small silver ring that glints in his nose; those lips again. He’s in uncharted waters but the weight of Jaebum’s stare and the enclosing darkness isn’t enough to sink him; he reminds himself that he’s not swimming alone. He can hear himself say the words before he decides to use them, consciousness taking a back seat to instinct. At least, that’s what he calls it. 

“Show me.” The request isn’t much more than a feather in its weight, soft, for Jaebum’s ears only. They’re both treading water as Jaebum hesitantly reaches forward. A tender hand guiding Jinyoung down onto the bundled fabric, colourful patterns contrasting sharply with the night black locks of his hair. Jinyoung reminds himself to breathe, tension escaping with warm air as Jaebum gestures for him to turn his body toward him. He watches carefully as the camera comes to life in Jaebum’s hands, as he raises it to one eye. Anyone can take a photo, but for truly talented photographers, their camera becomes an extension of themselves, their eyes and their soul. Jinyoung waits, feels the uncomfortable sensation of being bare to an audience, expects to hear the click of a shutter any moment now. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” he asks through nervous laughter, swallowed immediately when Jaebum goes to reach for him again. The abrupt pause causes Jaebum to halt his actions, unsure whether Jinyoung will permit him to continue. When Jinyoung nods slightly, wide eyed, he continues. Careful fingertips stroke strands of hair out of his eyes, leaving scorching trails where they brush against his cheek. The universe holds its breath for the two of them, Jaebum all the while peering through mechanical eyes, frustrated with the way technology could never capture the reality in front of him, as breathtaking as it is.

Click. “Don’t worry.” Click “You’re amazing.”

Heat claws its way up Jinyoung’s neck, the deep voice sinking into his bones, fans the flames of a fire he didn’t know had been ignited. The sound of the shutter closing doesn’t come as often as he’s used to. When you’re working with film, every shot counts, so Jinyoung knows that every click means he’s doing something right, that Jaebum feels it’s something worth capturing. Every click unlocks something darker within him, a desire to make it impossible to resist a shot. His efforts don’t go unnoticed, that darkness is reflected in Jaebum’s eyes when he finally lowers the camera. Jinyoung follows his movements as he stands and walks towards the makeshift set. Unconsciously he turns towards him, like a sunflower following the light until he’s lying flat on his back. 

Jinyoung doesn’t expect it when Jaebum lifts a leg over him, straddling his waist between strong thighs. Jaebum studies him carefully, keeping eye contact as rough palms find their way under the hem of Jinyoung’s jumper. The fabric had already started riding up but, with permission, Jaebum slowly pushes it higher over the expanse of his abs, cool air making the muscles tense in surprise. Jinyoung feels the air in his lungs retreat from approaching hands, trapped where Jaebum’s touch left ghostly finger prints. Jinyoung has an idea of what he must look like at this angle, tousled and exposed, ravished for the photographer. He’s no fool, not naive enough to think that the rapid pulse who can feel against his skin, a coincidence.

He tilts his head up, baring his neck in a way he knows will reveal his collar bones, more swathes of bronze skin for light to catch on. Satisfaction curls dangerously in his belly when Jaebum takes him in, insistent eyes evaluating every inch of him. A wicked voice urges him onwards as he stares up at the man through hooded lids, letting his jaw relax into something he would be embarrassed by, if it were anyone else. Head thrown back and mouth open, he arches up from the bench, can hear the sharp intake of breath from above him. A smug grin stretches over his lips when he hears the desperate groan trapped in Jaebum’s throat. Jinyoung opens his eyes to peer back at the man, only to find him scowling at the device in his hands. He furrows his brows questioningly when Jaebum looks down at him in apology.

“I’m out of film,” he explains sheepishly, fully aware what that insinuates. The shoot lasted barely 20 minutes. Jaebum clumsily clambers back over Jinyoung and almost trips when the front of his shoe gets caught in a stray blanket. Perhaps Jinyoung should be annoyed by the distraction, but he knows he’s done well and frankly, a flustered Jaebum almost eating carpet is too funny not to laugh at. 

He slowly pushes himself up into a seated position, the material of the jumper falling back down to cover his stomach. A devious idea crosses his mind as he watches Jaebum fumble a new roll of film. That familiar competitiveness comes back when he realises that at least he’s definitely not the only one who’s being affected. But he can do better.

“I brought another outfit with me in case you wanted more variety in the shots.” Jaebum peers up at him briefly from where he’s carefully winding the used film back into its roll before he can replace it. “Do you want me to change?” 

Jaebum is distracted when he answers, “Yeah sure, go ahead.”

✏︎

For the second time in three hours, Jinyoung once again finds himself waging a cold war against his reflection. Each time he caught Jaebum glassy eyed and a little hot under the collar was a direct ego boost. When he left to go change in the bathroom, he was filled with far more confidence than he is now. His breath condensates against the cool bathroom mirror as a deep sigh rattles out of him. If he is going to win whatever this is, he is going to have to bring his ‘A’ game. Months of falling prey to Jaebum’s stupid eyes, eyes that can cut right through you but soften so prettily when you make him smile, those eyes, it ends now. 

The button up shirt is simple, white with light blue pin stripes running down the length of it. It’s actually one of his favourites and one that Jaebum compliments the most. His lips curl up just slightly at the corners of his mouth, a fond smile blooming against his will- he never seems to notice that it’s the exact same shirt every time. The soft cotton hangs open, buttons undone so the fabric drapes just so over his shoulders. He would be lying if he said this was the plan all along but throughout all their back and forth, there has always been a clear boundary, and for the first time, neither of them are backing down. There is no saying if he’ll get another opportunity to push Jaebum’s buttons as freely as right now and there’s a horrible cloying desire building up in him, that’s begging to silence the last rational part of his brain. Jinyoung lets a hand stray over his stomach, muscles firm and fairly defined. All he has to do is picture what Jaebum will see through that lens, how even after Jinyoung leaves, he will have to look at those photos; take his time developing, editing, evaluating them. What he would have to endure for minutes, Jaebum will have to think about for days. And after all, this is a game, and this is how he’ll win. 

With a defiant nod to himself; to his dwindling sanity; and to whatever deity may be witnessing this, he turns to reach for the door, only to be stopped mid stride. There was one photograph that Jaebum sent that morning that Jinyoung was sure was a joke or perhaps a mistake at best, some Armani ad featuring a Chinese model in just his underwear. At the time, Jinyoung could only ignore it and hope for the best but now he can feel his fingers already undoing his belt. Hands and mind seem to be working independently of each other as denim hits the floor. He holds his breath in an effort to silence the cacophony of alarm bells blaring away in his head, and steps out of the jeans. Before common sense can win out, his palm meets the cold metal of the door handle and he pushes through back into Jaebum’s bedroom.

✏︎

“Shi-”

This time when Jinyoung enters the room, Jaebum is facing him, for about a millisecond before his foot catches on a loose wire and incidentally brings the lamp it was attached to falling down on top of his head. 

Jinyoung does his best to suppress the need to to give Jaebum absolute hell, because as much as he would like to, the sudden breeze around his legs reminds him that he's not exactly in the best position to do so. Big eyes are still staring at him, only tearing away from their up and down scan of his body, for Jaebum to push the lamp back into a standing position. The self satisfied little feeling blooming in his chest is completely out of Jinyoung's control, and so is the way it's manifesting on his face- a knowing look that Jaebum hates, like a preening cat.

"That,” comes the warbled high pitched noise from Jaebum's throat. The noise seems to surprise them both, Jaebum coughing roughly before he tries again. "That's a nice shirt." Jinyoung could practically hear the words before he even said them, but he lets fondness roll through him and decides that Jaebum can live just a little bit longer.

"Thanks hyung." Jinyoung does a quick turn on the spot before looking up at him again. "This is what you had in mind right?"

Jaebum's mouth is completely dry, most likely from the fact that it's still hanging open slightly, but the question seems to pull him out of his daze. "Uh yeah, you-" something seems to spark back into action in his brain then, a connection to a memory from earlier that day, a smile forming on his face before he continues. "It's just like that ad I sent you." All at once, Jaebum seems to get his wits about him in the face of Jinyoung's bare chest and legs. "You know that was just a joke right?"

Jinyoung is a fool for assuming Jaebum- the only man worthy of being called his greatest adversary- would go down that easily. Irritation bubbles up to the surface, colouring his cheeks in what he knows is an obvious red. His instincts, however, remind him to keep going.

"Really?" A look of pure scandalisation painted onto his features "Well look who's being unprofessional now." His tongue pushed up behind his teeth stops him from blowing the act, halting the telltale smile that threatening to blow his cover.

He’s met with silence, Jaebum watching him, waiting to see if he would crack. With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he seems to make a decision, eyebrows quirking slightly before he gestures to his bed. Jinyoung hadn’t realised it when he walked into the room, but where before there was one box light aimed at the blanketed bench, now there are two shining down on the soft white covers on Jaebum’s bed. 

“Since you clearly take your craft so seriously, let’s not waste any more time.” Jaebum turns away before he gets to witness the look of utter panic that slips through the cracks in Jinyoung’s facade. The younger man blinks rapidly for a moment as if to recalibrate himself, then tries to assess the situation at hand. Logically, he knows it’s stupid to get flustered by a simple change in background. A quick glance to the the small window above Jaebum’s desk confirms that he can no longer see faint light seeping through the blinds. What is it about nighttime that gives it the power to flush any innocence out of this situation? Jinyoung hesitantly turns and moves closer to the set up when he accidentally catches Jaebum in the act, absentmindedly drawing trails with his eyes up the back of Jinyoung’s thighs and resting just below the hem of the striped shirt.

Suddenly the temperature in the room seems to skyrocket because Jaebum isn’t aware that Jinyoung can see him out of the corner of his eye. He’s vaguely aware that he probably has the upperhand in this situation but thumbing quickly through mental files tells him that he has absolutely no idea how to react in this situation. Before all brain function shuts down, his body starts acting for him again, arms lifting above his head in a stretch before Jinyoung can fully consider the pros and cons. With both hands clasped high above his head, he can feel the way the shirt rides up with the movement, long hem now suddenly hanging just clear of the waistband on his black boxer briefs. Any reservations Jinyoung may have had are forgotten when he hears a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the room. 

Refocused and calm, Jinyoung bridges the distance to the bed, setting his palms into the soft white cotton before crawling to the centre of the mattress, making sure to send a sideways glance to the photographer before he settles down. When he peers up at him through dark lashes, he’s rewarded with Jaebum, face pale as if he’s seen a ghost, swallowing quickly before averting his gaze back to the camera once again safely cradled in his palms. Jinyoung grins up at him brightly, a picture of innocence, a perfect contrast to the toned muscles Jaebum can see through his open shirt. 

The lighting set up is much brighter this time, turned partially away from the wall and in the direction of the foot of the bed, shining onto Jinyoung’s back. He looks questioningly up at the photographer, waiting for an explanation of the next stage of the shoot. As much as this is an investigation of human nature, of their relationship, the fact that this is an important project is still hanging over their heads. He respects Jaebum too much as an artist to jeopardise this for him. As distracting as modelling for the project is, watching Jaebum work remains to be a sight that’s beyond fascinating. In the blink of an eye, a transformation takes place and suddenly he has complete dominion over every moving piece in a system. 

There’s a practised ease to the way Jaebum spills his mind onto canvas, solidifying figments of his imagination in a way that has Jinyoung completely enthralled every time. He considers for a moment that he could probably be stark naked and still not be a fraction as enticing as the confidence Jaebum is made of when he holds a camera, a brush; would it be the same if he was the one being held? Jinyoung feels the familiar question, a welcome weight on his heart, feels the tempest forming there behind his ribs and urges it to mellow into welcome rain as he watches Jaebum, deep in his thoughts and plans- he can allow himself the fantasy today. 

“I used colour film for the first shoot.” Jinyoung must have lost track of time because he completely forgot he was waiting for an explanation. “But Penn shot almost everything in black and white, and I saw this incredible series by Jeanloup Sieff where he used light to-” the excitement in his voice peters out as Jaebum stops for a moment, checking to see if Jinyoung is still following. Jinyoung is familiar with how self conscious Jaebum can become when an idea means a lot to him, it’s in these moments that his heart clenches painfully, and leaves him incapable of anything but to keep encouraging him. 

“No, carry on, I’ve never seen any of Sieff’s work before.”

As desperately as he wishes he could get Jaebum to take well earned pride in his ideas, the glittering smiles he’s rewarded with every time he has to reassure him is a fair consolation prize.

“Sieff used light and shadow as the key subject in his nudes.”

Jinyoung wiggles his eyebrows childishly, only for Jaebum to pointedly ignore him and carry on with his explanation, “It strips the forms down into shape and texture, you almost forget you’re looking at a person.” 

“So that explains the extra light.”

Jaebum nods happily when he realises that his plans are making sense to Jinyoung.

“Yes, I wanted to try something with silhouettes so I needed more backlighting.”

Jinyoung smiles. It’s amazing how Jaebum can keep surprising him. Intimacy: the concept of being so close that you lose sight of the bigger picture, of anything else. Sounds beautiful. 

“I was actually thinking about doing photogram prints at the same time as developing the film. That way I can block out parts of the exposure and abstract it more… I don’t know, I guess I’ll figure it out later.” Jinyoung finds himself nodding along, taking in each word and trying to imagine the finished pieces. Jaebum smiles shyly when Jinyoung gestures at him wordlessly as if to ask how do you do this?

“Ok then,” Jinyoung claps his hands together. “What do I need to do?” 

As Jaebum begins to explain, he reaches forward to manoeuvre Jinyoung around, catching the younger man off guard when a warm hand settled the small of his back. Both men flinch suddenly, Jaebum practically jumping back at Jinyoung’s surprise.

“Sorry I should have asked,'' comes the hasty apology, but Jinyoung waves him down while he waits for his heart rate to slow. 

“No hyung it’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it, please do what you have to do.”

It must have worked because those familiar hands find themselves on either side of Jinyoung’s, albeit hesitantly. He follows Jaebum’s guiding motions and ends up sitting down facing the pillows at the top of the bed. 

“Can you get on your knees?” Jaebum’s voice is far closer than he thought he was, the man barely having to speak above a whisper for Jinyoung to hear every syllable. He imagines for a moment that he can feel a warm breath on his cheek. Shuffling around to get into position, he leans back and unexpectedly hits a surface where he was expecting there to be nothing. Time slows as Jinyoung feels the expanse of Jaebum’s chest flush against him. Suddenly, everything sharpens, like someone just turned the focus on a manual lens and now Jinyoung is hyper aware of every place that is touching Jaebum, can feel each point, burning, lighting him up like a Christmas tree. Spine against sternum, a knee nearly pressed up next to his, the ghost of fingertips still hovering around his waist. Just like that, they’re propelled through time so quickly, back to reality with such force that Jinyoung almost expects his ears to pop. 

“I said could you move forward a little more?” Jaebum’s voice trickles back through to him slowly, softly. He must have missed it the first time he asked. Embarrassment pumping through his veins, Jinyoung corrects his posture and mumbles a quick apology without looking the man in the eye. Jangling nerves are only calmed by the smile he can hear in Jaebum’s voice when he hums in acknowledgement. He waits silently for the warmth to dissipate, but Jaebum’s steady weight doesn’t lift. Cocooned in the heady ozone of the other so close to him, a whisper of space between them, electricity arcing where palms are brushing against elbows. Like a storm, lighting strikes and Jinyoung is enveloped with cold air rushing in to fill the space Jaebum left behind; cool air teases at his shoulders. Jinyoung lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding and focuses on the feeling of cotton under his finger tips, the crisp sheets anchoring him to reality, reminding him what he’s doing. The first shutter click triggers a heat spreading out from the centre of his back, an intense gaze burning its way up his spine and with it Jinyoung can feel himself blooming. It’s incredible how that tiny sound can carry so much weight, a voice that whispers he’s worthy, a sight to be immortalised on film, a lasting record of him. 

He loses himself. Pretty words fill his head, drown him in praise, flood him with a confidence he doesn’t recognise. Pretty words are unwinding his limbs; tugging gently at the shirt slipping off his shoulders; laying him down. Pretty words sound like the click of a shutter. 

Jinyoung can feel his pulse thrumming in his very core, spreading out to his fingertips. Praise is the blood in his veins, pumping through him, pooling, like the fabric, around his waist. Jinyoung lets this ecstasy lead him. Overflowing and threatening to pour out, he stretches as far as he can, gives it as much room as he can. He can hear his own breathing and perhaps he should be ashamed of how wrecked he sounds but the breaths are coming in harmony. 

“Wow.” It’s barely a sound but the dam breaks, deep voice flooding in through the cracks. 

“You’re so pretty Jinyoungie.”

“So beautiful.”

“Yeah just like that.”

Pretty words that sound like pretty words, filling his head and drowning him in praise. He doesn’t need to see Jaebum to know how he’s looking at him. His voice gives him away; he sounds as breathless as Jinyoung feels, darkness in his tone cutting the shape of his eyes into Jinyoung’s mind. Jaebum sounds as detached from his tongue as Jinyoung is from his body. Syllables feel like lips. Lips pressed against his neck, brushing along his jaw. Every intake of breath, a hand running up his spine, fingers bruising his thighs Adrenaline replaces oxygen and Jinyoung can feel the pleasant lightheadedness that follows the dismantling of his inhibitions. He lets force of it move him, rolling him over onto his front, pushing him up onto his knees. Blood is pumping through him so furiously he can feel it pushing through his veins, thudding in his ears. He can feel himself come undone from the sound of Jaebum’s voice and the mechanical click of the camera that’s part of him. Each shutter release brings him closer and closer to his own.

When his eyes blink open, the world fades into view around him, stark lighting casting everything in monochrome, his climbs higher up his throat, the further his eyes travel upwards. He can feel the empty cavity in his chest when his gaze lands on knees, arranged in a position that mirrors his own. Thighs wrapped in dark black jeans boldly contrast with the pure white cotton they’re splayed into. There's a metallic ‘clack’ as the hard body of the film camera swings down and into an open hand, tapping against the thick silver ring Jaebum wears on his middle finger. The sound is only small, but jarring enough to pull Jinyoung out of his haze like a bucket of ice water being tipped over his head. He wastes no time, eyes snapping up to bite hungrily at every part of Jaebum that he can before he’s tamed by the intensity Jaebum is staring back at him with. His gaze is dark, pupils so blown you would have thought he’s spent the last half an hour under Jinyoung and not several feet away kneeling at the foot of the bed. If he mumbles a direction, Jinyoung doesn’t hear him, Jaebum’s gravity pulling him into orbit. 

Without realising, Jinyoung begins to inch closer, every one of his senses reaching out to get a hold of Jaebum. He is distantly aware of the way his joints are moving, urging him forward. A hand and a knee; a hand and a knee, pushing him into a gradual crawl. Each one of Jinyoung’s muscles are burning with the promise of their destination, lean and strung taut like a predator. All the while, he doesn't waver, eyes locked resolutely with the blackness that is Jaebum’s sharp and unflinching, landing heavily on Jinyoung’s bottom lip. These eyes do not belong to simple prey. There’s tension in the laboured beating of Jinyoung’s heart, in the tight set of Jaebum’s jaw and yet Jaebum stays there, fixed firmly in his position, regarding Jinyoung as if to decide whether he is a friend or foe. Jinyoung feels his hunger take over then, curling his lips into hungry smirk, baring his teeth; he doesn’t know the answer to the question himself. 

He blinks and Space is the pair of eyes he’s staring into, stars glimmering in vast solar systems. Space has to be contained there because there’s none left between the two men now. 

Jinyoung feels like a moon in Jaebum’s universe, watching from afar as he eclipses the sun. This is how it always feels with Jaebum; Jinyoung staying lightyears away because he doesn’t want to know how dazzling he is up close. No the distance is just there in his mind, miles of inky black space he’s been too afraid to traverse but here on Earth, he can hear Jaebum’s breathing as closely as his own. The realisation is jarring enough to tilt Jinyoung off his axis, eyes falling shut so he can feel the familiar darkness wash over him. With his sight restricted, all of his other senses tune in more intensely to their surroundings. This close he can smell wood sage and sea salt. Present faintly beneath the stench of printing inks and developer. Present now at the base of Jaebum’s jaw, stronger than he’s experienced it before and all of a sudden overwhelming. The familiar scent becomes his atmosphere, makes it easier for him to breathe. 

He can feel the exact point where their knees are pressed together, Jinyoung’s skin against rough denim. Kneeling, frozen in place, a perfect reflection of each other. Jinyoung imagines raising his hand only for Jaebum to follow and wonders startlingly whether Jaebum could be thinking about it too. There’s something tugging at him, pulling at the fabric of his soul at the point where he can feel himself tethered to Jaebum, mind and soul. That’s how it’s always felt with him. Heat blooms and unfurls behind his closed eyes when he thinks about how ridiculous he sounds. 

His lazy orbit comes to a stuttering halt when a warm palm rests against his jaw, careful fingers settling ever so lightly into the soft hair near his left ear. Silence fills Jinyoung, every system, every organ, every neuron vanishing, the only part of Jinyoung remaining is the feeling of Jaebum’s skin against his. There’s another sudden tug from deep within him and he's brought gasping back into existence, when he feels the cold tip of Jaebum’s nose brushing against his. Instincts scream at him to do something, to reach out, to bridge the gap. He turns his head- too quickly to feel the faintest brush of lips across his cheek- and with a shaking hand, paws around in front of him until he can feel the only thing that’s going to keep him from disappearing into thin air again. The metal is worn warm where it’s been held, the ghost of Jaebum’s palms lingering there as it is on Jinyoung’s face. He retrieves the camera from where it was resting idly in Jaebum’s lap and focuses all his attention on the little number displayed in the top corner. He keeps his mind occupied so that he doesnt think about how his heart plummets as Jaebum deflates with a gasp, pulling back like he’s been burnt. There’s a fist clenched around it, restricting each beat with a painful squeeze. It’s impossible to ignore the part of him that wants so badly to give into the pull, to get as close to Jaebum as humanly possible, but it’s drowned out by every fear Jinyoung has conditioned himself to have. 

He was right, they’re connected mind and soul and in this moment, that understanding is far more powerful than the animalistic need threatening to claw its way out. Continuing another day with the knowledge that he can call Jaebum a friend is a lot less painful than sending that delicate thing to the gallows, on the off chance that it could survive something like this. 

“Sorr-”

“You have three shots left.” Jinyoung still can’t bring himself to look Jaebum in the eye but something tells him that he wouldn’t survive hearing him apologise for something he started. 

The statement is clearly not what Jaebum was expecting but he seems grateful for any escape from the embarrassing sting of rejection. “It’s ok, I think I have what I need.” 

Jinyoung finally looks up then, a selfish little voice telling him he’s in the clear. He doesn’t see any resentment painted into the line of Jaebum’s lips or the slant of his eyebrows, a fact that he didn’t expect to fill him with so much frustration. It seems as though in the time it took Jaebum to forgive and forget, Jinyoung has been steamrolled by remorse. It is he who acted on behalf of the red cloud of lust that consumed him and it was Jaebum who could have gotten hurt. Yet there is no indication that he blames him in the slightest. It’s not right, and it’s unfair that everything with Jaebum is so easy when Jinyoung feels like each of his actions are carefully designed to get some reaction out of him. The ugly guilt lodged in his gut tells him Jaebum deserves better than that. 

Mentally, he shakes off the gnarled beast settling on his shoulders; it will be the best for both of them if he just carries on like usual. However the intensity of a single glaring spotlight makes it difficult to shed the weight that’s threatening to pull him under. Jinyoung taps a fingernail unconsciously against the setting dial on Jaebum’s old Panasonic, careful not to accidentally adjust the shutter speed. 

“Can I use them then?” Jinyoung isn’t sure where the idea came from, but any distraction is a welcome one. No answer comes and when Jinyoung looks to see why, Jaebum is just staring at him, head tilted and eyebrows raised in wait. There’s momentary panic welling up inside him while he tries to figure out if he’s read the situation badly and if Jaebum actually wants to send him back to hell himself. 

“Sorry who were you talking to?” 

Jinyoung’s only response to Jaebum’s question is complete and utter confusion. There is no one else he could have been talking to. So caught off guard, he finds himself looking around him to see if, in fact, they’ve had an audience the entire time and he just hadn’t noticed them. He’s about to ask Jaebum to clarify what he meant when he realises Jaebum’s trying to stifle a laugh at the total look of bewilderment knitted into Jinyoung’s features. At least Jaebum isn’t angry with him. Relief is short lived because when the realisation dawns on him, Jinyoung rolls his eyes so violently he half expects them to get stuck that way.

“Can I please use them,” Jaebum gets a face full of feathery pillow before Jinyoung continues, “Hyung.”

Jaebum’s loud cackling is only muffled slightly by Jinyoung’s best efforts to smother him with one of his own cushions. Unbelievable. When Jaebum finally pries the younger man off of him, both are red in the face. Jaebum in particular pants as if he’s just run a marathon. Jinyoung doesn’t know how to react to the overwhelming feeling of relief when he sees Jaebum’s smile, full and bright, eyes turned up into crescents. He must have seen Jaebum’s smile a thousand times but has never fully appreciated how comforting it is. With a million voices in his head, all different volumes and pitches, all telling him that what he did was wrong, gratitude doesn’t fully explain the bone deep warmth that's thawing him out again. Jinyoung lets himself bask in it, even finds himself smiling back, the ringing in his ears subsiding.

“What did you want to use them for?”

Jaebum’s voice sounds like a song, all soft and calm coming from where he’s still lying on his back. Tears are left glittering in his eyelashes from his laughter- Jinyoung prays a silent thank you that that was the only reason- and his eyes just fit him so well, Jinyoung thinks, as Jaebum looks up at him. He can almost imagine him having a different nose, perhaps bright purple hair or being thirty years older with wrinkles and laugh lines adorning his face. Everything else could change, but as long as his eyes are the same, he’ll know it’s Jaebum. It’s impossible not to recognise the unadulterated honestly they hold. Perhaps things with Jaebum are always so easy because all he needs to do is look at him to know exactly what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. In spite of himself, Jinyoung can feel his heart lighten along with the tension that was pulling at every part of him. He must be a picture of cheesiness right now: whisker-like creases in the corners of his own eyes when he finally returns the smile. Jinyoung fights the urge to hide the silly grin behind his hands because he can’t deny how happy Jaebum makes him, and he believes that he should get to see that for himself. 

Forgotten in his hands, the camera makes a mechanical zipping noise as the lens autofocuses, as if to say I’m still here; Jinyoung hadn’t even realised he switched it on. 

“Well I’ve had to endure the last two hours, it’s only fair that you should suffer too.” When Jinyoung made the request, he hadn’t really thought the plan through all the way, but there’s no inspiration quite like a beautiful boy sprawled out next to you on a bed. Except, when you’re looking at said boy, there’s very little you can do to stop how every fibre of your being seems to buzz, ready to jump ship if you ever stop looking. That’s how Jinyoung decides that he absolutely does not want to stop looking, the key to preserving this moment resting heavily in his hand.

Jaebum considers Jinyoung’s point for a moment and with a small nod, lets out half a chuckle before he rolls over and pushes himself up onto his knees. There’s a flash of something in his eyes. 

“How do you want m-” 

Without any hesitation, Jinyoung pushes him back down, hand planted in the centre of the Jaebum’s chest. He can feel a blush creep onto his cheeks when Jaebum just stares, wide eyed, back at him; wonders if it’s even visible anymore. He can’t believe that after the whole ordeal, he still has it in him to feel shy in front of his best friend. Jaebum makes a surprised noise, half gasp, half barked laughter when all Jinyoung does is smile sweetly and tells him: “Stay put.”

Defeated, Jaebum just goes with it, lying back and regarding Jinyoung down the length of his nose. 

“Ok Mister Photographer.” he dramatically turns his head to the side, face squashed against the sheets, before he mumbles a muffled, “I’m ready for my close up.” 

Jaebum looks ridiculous the way his mouth is half open, cheek squishing his left eye closed. He looks ridiculous but Jinyoung, for the life of him, can’t stop the sickly saccharine flood of fondness caught in his throat from bubbling up into a giggle. Clearly more concerned with being funny that helpful, Jaebum echoes his own laughter, a job well done.

Jinyoung may not be as in tune with the instrument as Jaebum is, but he’s been studying photography for five years. He knows how to capture an image, can tell you all you need to know about intersecting thirds and depth of field, he’d go so far as to say he can do it well. However, as he lifts the device to his eye, Jaebum coming into view through the viewfinder, he can’t shake the feeling that this could be a life and death situation. The torrent of fear and affection building up in his chest is threatening to burst open and if he can’t do what he wants, can’t bridge the distance between them, he wants to at least save this moment; keep it contained in more ways than one. 

He lets out a shaky sigh he didn’t even realise he had rattling around behind his ribs. Jaebum looks so tiny through the warped glass of the viewfinder, just patiently waiting for him to give direction or take the photo. It feels wrong. There’s something unsettling about how the harsh white light catches on Jaebum’s cheekbones, rendering them more severe, eyes darker and sharper than the ones he knows. Mostly Jinyoung doesn’t like how grey everything looks, as if it’s inherently wrong for Jaebum to be cast in anything other than a full spectrum of colours. He makes the decision then, reaches over the mattress and flips the switch on the first big box lamp. The metal is radiating heat against his hand from where it’s been left on for so long, the bulb practically sighs as its dimmed to darkness. Jaebum makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat as he follows Jinyoung’s movements to where he kills the only other light source, drenching the room in an inky night. 

“I’m not telling how to do your job or anything,” Jaebum’s voice permeates through the darkness, light and amused but with an undercurrent of something unknown; curiosity? Anticipation? “But you know what the photo part of photography means right?”

Jinyoung takes a moment to swallow his disbelief. Right now Jaebum is on his bed, in complete darkness, with a man wearing basically just his underwear, and he decides to use this as an opportunity to test Jinyoung on his Greek. Jaebum is still chuckling at his own question while Jinyoung fumbles around blindly for the light switch dangling somewhere in between the bed and the bookcase he uses as a side table. When Jinyoung’s fingers catch on the small rectangular piece of plastic, the furrow in his brow dissolves, making way for a triumphant smile. He grips the switch and turns to face the dark outline of Jaebum, carefully traced onto a Payne’s grey canvas. When light floods back into the space, everything is washed in the warmth glowing from the yellow bulb. Jaebum’s lips are caught in a small ‘o’, as if the words were stolen out of his mouth before he could say them. This time when Jinyoung looks at him, light caresses soft cheeks and the subtle rose of Jaebum’s cupids bow. Now the boy is in full colour, in every dimension, smiling at Jinyoung for a reason unbeknownst to him. There’s a shyness about him, a hand coming up to scratch at his nape as he avoids the younger man’s gaze, albeit still smiling. Jinyoung is taken aback, lost for any explanation of what he’s done to deserve the blush on Jaebum’s cheeks.

“Jinyoung-ah, can you please stop looking at me like that?” 

Jinyoung almost chokes on his inhale, suddenly self aware and burning with embarrassment of being caught like this. He wills his dazed smile into smooth indifference, does his best to stop looking at Jaebum with such sweetness he might actually be able to taste it. 

“Sorry, hyung.” 

Shame starts to germinate like a seed. It’s not fair for him to want something he doesn’t deserve, to keep reaching out for it when he came so close to dropping it. Years of rationalising his actions, Jinyoung didn’t consider that the games they were playing could be more than that. Gears shift, he feels how the cogs turn and settle back into their grooves; that’s a lie. He knew his truth, knows how he convinced himself it doesn't have to mean anything more. There’s a weight growing in him, a fear that he might have convinced Jaebum that someone like Jinyoung deserves him. 

But Jinyoung is selfish, and when Jaebum just sends him a quizzical smile from where he’s propped up against the headboard, he feels himself melt into the mold of what it feels like to be with him. It’s hard to explain what takes place when Jaebum smiles at him. It’s like a reverse chemical reaction, the developer leaching away the darkness where his own thoughts are exposed on his skin. However, it’s never long until the film is pulled along, a new negative leaving its patterns behind. 

The weight of the camera hanging around his neck pulls him back from the edge. Cool metal against his palms makes him feel a bit more like himself again; enough to send Jaebum a smile as he climbs off of the mattress. 

✏︎

Three. The digit blinks up at him from the little counter. 

When Jinyoung raises the camera to his eye, there's a bitter disappointment that barrels into him. The Jaebum that is looking up at him still feels so dislocated and distant. Discomfort scratches at the places where Jinyoung’s resolve is thinnest. For Jaebum the camera becomes just another extension of him, but for Jinyoung it feels like an unscalable wall. Something delicate snaps within him when that distance starts feeling like a chasm and all he wants to do is get closer again. The ache in his chest- powerful enough to surpass all rationality- is what drives him forwards until his knees are pressed, into the comforter, between Jaebum’s legs. 

Jinyoung ignores how heavily he’s breathing, focusing instead on where Jaebum’s fingers are wrapped carefully around his wrist; a small comfort; a silent question. 

“You were too far,” Jinyoung hears himself whisper, gesturing vaguely at the camera around his neck. “The composition wasn’t right”.

If Jaebum sees through him, he doesn’t say anything, just nods quietly and lies down again. Jinyoung shifts his weight nervously, not considering the position he’d be putting himself in. If he wants to maintain the pretence of a portrait shoot, he’ll have to angle himself above Jaebum somehow. Steeling his nerves, he moves slowly, shifting his knees so he’s bracketing Jaebum’s waist instead.

He kneels over Jaebum, adrenaline making it impossible to take the time to evaluate the frame before he presses down on the shutter. A sudden burst of light startles them both out of their reverie. The jolt knocks Jinyoung off of his balance, even a quick pair of hands on his thighs not doing much to stop him from toppling over. Luckily, Jinyoung catches himself, palms pressed into the mattress either side of Jaebum’s head. Silently, he admonishes himself for not checking the flash settings but he can’t help the peal of laughter that escapes. Below him, the shell shocked look on Jaebum’s face just causes him to laugh harder, the mattress squeaking slightly under his weight. Jinyoung can’t stop, the emotional whiplash leaving him light headed. Gasping for breath, he curls in on himself, resting his forehead against Jaebum’s chest, seeking comfort in the way he too shakes with laughter beneath him. 

When the comedy of the moment recedes, Jinyoung chances a glance at Jaebum, lifting himself up onto his hands again. He feels his heartbeat stutter at the image before him, pure happiness painted onto Jaebum’s features when he looks up at him. It’s a rare and precious thing to know for sure that he’s the reason Jaebum is happy. Unsure of what compels him to do so, he reaches a tentative hand towards him and carefully tucks a few wayward strands of Jaebum’s hair behind his ear. 

Melancholy sits like an intruder in his chest when he shifts to pick up the camera again. The handheld barrier is the only reason he’s able to say the words waiting at the tip of his tongue. 

“You’re the most beautiful like this.” The honesty feels almost foreign to him.

The shutter clicks before Jinyoung allows himself to take in Jaebum’s reaction.

One more.

“Jinyoung.”

It’s hard to believe there was a time when his name didn’t exist on Jaebum’s lips. Jaebum doesn’t need to raise a hand to get Jinyoung to lower the camera. The faraway version of Jaebum disappearing as Jinyoung feels himself being drawn in by his voice, a ship to a siren. Weightlessness frees him as he stares down at his best friend, in the flesh and underneath him. The tides of Jaebum pulls him in further, pulls him nearer, or is it the careful fingers that have wandered into his hair?

Most things in Jinyoung’s life come attached with a percentage probability; how likely it is that they’ll still mean something to him in ten, twenty years time. He has come to understand this about himself and how a number of the things that bring him joy now, might not matter in a week; moreso that he’s okay with that. However, when he gazes at the man below him, he can not deny that Jaebum has built himself a home in his heart, foundations rooted in his soul. No, Jinyoung can’t really be sure about the permanence of anything, but something that cuts deeper than bone, tells him he’ll follow Jaebum anywhere, everywhere. Out of all certainties, Jaebum is the only one that matters. He takes him in. Every detail. Lets himself wander aimlessly around Jaebum, gets lost in his eyes; Jinyoung doesn’t really mind. All he wants is to feel those twin moles under his thumb.

“Jinyoung,” a mantra. The softest whisper, “Kiss me.”

Instincts honed since the beginning of time press him to do something, to reach out, to bridge the gap. So he does. The last thing Jinyoung is sure of, is twin moles under his thumb, and then he’s diving head first into the waves. Time slows and their lips meet. 

Light bursts through him, supernovas etched onto the back of his eyelids. Everything is in equilibrium and everything is chaos. He can feel the way the scales tip when a cold nose brushes against his cheek, when one kiss becomes many, becomes infinite. In a breath, the entirety of the cosmos, in its boundless existence, collapses inwards, folds itself smaller and smaller until all of its impossible beauty is pressed down under his weight, painted onto the skin of the man he gets to hold in his arms. And he’s holding him. 

He’s holding him. 

Teeth pull at his bottom lip and Jinyoung gasps, head filled with a symphony made up only of drums. The steady beat demands one thing, to be closer. Closer until he can feel Jaebum’s heartbeat behind his own rib cage; until his fingers are so tangled in soft black hair, he can never leave. He feels his tongue against his lips and suddenly space doesn’t matter anymore. He’ll give Jaebum as much room as he wants, will let him have as much of Jinyoung as he wants. The beat enters double time as fire flows liquid through him. He pulls gently at the dark strands and is rewarded with a melody; Jaebum moans as his strong arms wrap around Jinyoung’s shoulders. Jinyoung goes gladly; lowers himself onto his forearms as Jaebum pulls him deeper, deeper into him. He lets himself pull away for a moment then, can still feel Jaebum’s nose brush against his as he lets himself breathe. Oxygen sends the world spinning on its axis and Jinyoung can feel every rotation when he makes eye contact with the man so close he might as well be his reflection. They let time wait for them to catch their breath.

Emotion building up inside him suddenly feels too big for his chest, filling every little bit of space, overwhelming and threatening to spill out. Then he feels warm hands on his ribs, under his shirt, smoothing over his back, and he lets them. 

Jinyoung lets himself think of every moment he’s ever wanted to kiss Jaebum. Every overcast Monday morning when Jaebum walks in drenched because he forgot his umbrella, grumbling as rain drips into his eyes. Every Saturday night in the print room when they could barely keep their eyes open long enough to tell the difference between blue and yellow ink, and instead of leaving him behind, Jaebum would just go get two more coffees from the vending machine. Every time Jinyoung teases him and Jaebum just smiles despite himself. Just every time he smiles at him. He thinks of all these moments and then he makes up for lost time. Pressing gentle kisses to the moles under his eyebrow, his nose, the corner of his mouth. He lets all the moments pour out. Kisses along his jaw; feels Jaebum’s pulse under his lips as he leaves trails down his neck, his collarbones. He wants. Wants Jaebum to feel as good as he always makes Jinyoung feel. 

Soft laughter reverberates in Jaebum’s chest as Jinyoung noses against the collar of his baggy T-shirt, his narrow waist only visible where he’s pinned between Jinyoung’s thighs. For a moment, the sound throws him off his balance and he glances up at Jaebum, the irrational part of his brain screaming that it’s all a joke. Every last breath is pulled out from him at the smile that Jaebum wears; eyes sparkling with fondness; bright in contrast to the bruised red of his lips

“It tickles.” 

Jinyoung finds it hard to believe that, at some point, he knew how to use words, had a vocabulary even. However, in this moment, he fears that if he doesn’t say anything, do anything, he might just start laughing and never stop. So he does something. He spares time only to take another look at Jaebum: on his back and still panting, that blissed out smile on his face. Jinyoung decides to catch it between his teeth. Jaebum mewls into his mouth the moment Jinyoung’s lips are sliding against his again, hands pawing at any bare skin he can reach. Tracks of burning fingerprints run up and down Jinyoung’s spine, over his shoulders, into his hair.

As Jinyoung crawls backwards, Jaebum follows, tethered to each other by that unknowable something. Jinyoung holds his universe between his palms and Jaebum has his sat in his lap. Jaebum runs his hands under the soft fabric barely clinging onto Jinyoung’s shoulders and, with a sigh, pushe the shirt off. Jinyoung chuckles as he slips his arms out of the sleeves. 

“Not fair,” he whispers against Jaebum’s lips. Jaebum pulls away at that, hands resting on Jinyoung’s thighs, so familiar it feels like the final steps up to his front door after a long day. Jaebum quirks an eyebrow in challenge, raising both arms in the air, a silent invitation for Jinyoung to ‘make it fair’. If Jinyoung blushes at the display, only Jaebum will ever know. He slides his thumbs lightly under the hem of the T-shirt pooling around Jaebum’s middle and leans in to kiss him once, softly. Jaebum tries not to squirm as Jinyoung draws a line up to his ribs, delicate fingertips over sensitive skin. He moves slowly; tries to remember what every part of Jaebum feels like in his hands for the first time. All the while Jaebum watches him with such reverence. There’s little he can do apart from leaning in again, from tasting his smile again. Laughter peals out Jaebum like bells when large hands slide over his chest, the world going dark for a moment as Jinyoung pulls the shirt over his head. Before he can open his eyes, Jinyoung falls into him again; winds his legs tighter around his middle and starts leaving slow kisses under his jaw; memories he wants him to keep. Jinyoung nips at the skin there, hands mapping out the muscles in Jaebum’s shoulders, tracing the curve of his spine; memorising the way he was put together. 

Anticipation spreads like fire. Desire, kindling to the flame as they tangle themselves in each other’s roots. However, the stinging touches and burning words don’t leave their marks on them for the heat is only skin deep. Where Jinyoung has spent sleepless nights imagining the pillars of smoke that would consume them, instead cool tides of relief wash gently over their heads, unadulterated joy bubbling up from their chests. When the indigo light of morning slowly creeps in through the blinds, Jinyoung is, for once, content to just drift.

**Author's Note:**

> I am still fairly new to writing and as scary as this was, I has so many wonderful people who helped me with all [gestures vaguely] this. Ayesha and Leah, thank you so much for your patience and wisdom. I'm sorry you've had to hear me winge about this constantly for the last few months, but I love you both and wouldn't have been able to do it without you. 
> 
> Also, thank YOU so much for reading this and I really hope you enjoyed it <3 Kudos and comments would be so appreciated because I'd love to hear what you think and please come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/lovefoolthatsme)! 
> 
> Finally, another big thank you to our mod and please make sure to support all the wonderful writers and artists who took part in the fest.


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